


Hope

by Rachel500



Series: Part of the Journey is the End [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 14:24:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel500/pseuds/Rachel500
Summary: Natasha has hope





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Avengers Endgame. 
> 
> Content warning of character deaths, loss of children, grief, violence and essentially suicide.

_Clint won’t let go of her willingly._

_Natasha looks up at him, fills up her gaze with him._

_It was Clint who saved her; who gave her hope; who has always given her hope._

o-O-o

Her identity is fluid, changing.  One day she’ll be a bottle blonde honeypot and the next she’ll be a dowdy sparrow with glasses and a bun. 

She doesn’t know who she is.

The Red Room wipes any thought of self and replaces it with duty and orders; with training; with the ability to transform into anything and everything they need.  They make her and remake her.  Trainers and handlers come and go.  Each time she makes a connection, with Yasha, with Yelena…it always snaps and leaves her alone again.  But somehow, she hangs onto hope for something else, dreams of a life outside her day to day existence, for a very long time.

Graduation takes the last of her remaining hope for a life beyond.

They tell her she is Natalia Romanova, the Black Widow.

She is their weapon.

There are years of blood which follow.  Her hands take the lives of innocents every mission.  She questions nothing; she obeys her orders. 

The Drakovs are a rich Armenian family; she joins them as Drakov’s new assistant, Amie. For a long month she does nothing but live with them and observe.

Anton Drakov is a good husband and father.  She watches day after day, and he truly cares for his wife and his daughter.  His thoughts are for them.  He never looks at Amie as a woman.  That’s not to say he treats Amie with anything less than respect.  He is a good boss; caring and kind, but firm and clear in his expectations.  His wife, Sophia, is a bright warm woman.  She treats Amie as a confidante; a fellow co-conspirator in looking after her husband.  Their daughter, Ella, is five; smart as a button, playful and strong-willed.

Amie finds herself wistful at their familial love and affection, and knows it is forbidden fruit.

Her orders arrive; she is to eliminate the parents and to kidnap Ella for the Red Room. 

Ella’s bedroom is a riot of colour and of life, and in the midst of it, Ella is playing.  She wears a ballet costume, a bright pink tutu.  She dances around and around.  Amie watches and knows the Red Room will wipe out the joy of the dance, the bubbly energy of Ella’s childish glee; they will wipe out Ella. 

Natalia runs.

Over a year later, she’s taken down more of the Red Room than any of their other enemies.  But she’s weary.

Life is not for her.

Family is not for her.

All she has is blood.  All she knows is how to be a weapon.

SHIELD stalks her now.  She knows they’re closing in.  She feels the watcher at her back.

Natalia focuses on the mission, on her latest target: Ivan Petrovich.

It’s cold and it’s raining as she follows him through the streets of Berlin.

She follows him from a club and into an alley, where he turns on her as she knew he would.  They fight hand to hand; knife to knife.  He has trained her; he believes he knows every move she will make.  Almost every move.  She slides the stiletto knife into his heart and steps away from him, blood dripping from its blade.

She stops; pauses.  “You should not be here,” she says.

The man on the fire escape keeps his arrow aimed at her head.  “I’m starting to think neither should you.”

Natalia looks up at him.  “You’re SHIELD; you’re here to kill me.” 

He’s not particularly handsome although he has character in his features.  He’s compact, slim and athletic; an acrobat.  But his aim is true and he doesn’t waver in his position.  His weapon gives away his identity: Hawkeye.  He’s SHIELD’s weapon; their assassin.  He will be a worthy opponent; a worthy weapon to kill her.

“Yes, I am,” he says, his American accent evident in each word. 

His eyes snag hers for a long moment.

Suddenly he shifts.  The arrow goes back in its quiver, the bow slung on his shoulder, and he drops down from the escape, puddles splashing as he lands.  He stands across the street from her.

“But I think I’m going to make a different call,” he says.

Natalia freezes.  “You’re going to let me go?”  Her accented words are heavy with scepticism.

He smiles.  “Nope, not going to do that either.”  He looks at her.  “I think it’s time someone offered you a choice.”

She can’t bring herself to hope the offer is genuine.

“Do not…” she begins and stops.  She turns away from him; exposes her back.  “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I know enough, Natalia Romanova,” he counters.  “I know about the blood bath in Sao Paulo; I know about the Kellers.  I know how you burned down that hospital in Croatia; murdered old Albert Harper in his bed and cut off his dick.”

Natalia refuses to bow her head; to acknowledge the tears which press against the back of her eyes.

“I also know the infamous Black Widow saved Anton Drakov’s daughter rather than turn her over to the Red Room,” he continues, “and I know you’ve been cleaning house with a vengeance since you ran; you’re trying to save her still.  More than that?  I think you want more than this.  I think you lived with that family and realised they had something you didn’t, something you wanted.”

Natalia says nothing; admits nothing.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” the man concludes, “SHIELD can help you.”

Natalia turns back.  “No-one can help me.”  She snuffs out the small voice burning inside of her which whispers differently.  She straightens her stance, readies herself.  She’s nothing.  She’s a weapon.

They fight.

He’s good; she considers herself better.  They exchange blow after blow.  But then…

He puts her on the ground.

She turns the tables and he’s on his back.  She raises her dagger…

Somehow he knocks it out of her hand, sends her flying…

He stands over her with an arrow pointed at her neck.

The man smiles; it’s a crooked but warm smile that transforms his face.  “You’re good, but I have something you don’t…”

A shiver goes down her spine.

“Hope.” 

He sets the arrow back in its quiver and takes a step back. 

She gets to her feet warily, watching him.

“We haven’t been formally introduced; I’m Clint Barton.”

“I don’t even know who I am,” Natalia confesses painfully.

“Then let’s find out,” Clint says.  His eyes hold hers intently. “Let me give you what you want; let me give you hope.” 

And he does: hope springs to life within her again; painful and sharp in her chest; an agony which she can hardly bear.

Natalia catches her breath. 

Clint holds out his hand through the rain.

She takes it.

o-O-o

Natasha feels sick as she takes in the tableau.

Vision lies dead.

Steve sits beside him, distraught and defeated.  Thor stares at the space where Thanos has just disappeared.

“What happened?” asks Bruce plaintively.

“We lost,” Steve says.  “Bucky…Bucky and Wanda…they turned to dust right in front of me.”

“My King did the same,” Okoye, the Wakandan General, appears beside them.  She gestures with her spear.  “Come, we need to regroup and work out what is to be done.”

Steve gets to his feet and they start to walk out of the Wakandan undergrowth, back towards the main city.  Thor picks up Vision and takes to the sky.

Okoye is already on her radio, commandeering vehicles for them; requesting updates from all of her remaining troops.

War Machine drops in beside Natasha and his helmet flips open.  “Have you seen Sam?”

Natasha’s heart sinks, devastated.  Steve stops abruptly, his face crumpling as he shakes his head.  Natasha places a hand on his shoulder.  Sam’s their friend; their comrade.  He’s been their constant support for the past couple of years since they went the vigilante route.

Rhodes grimaces.  “I’ll meet you back there.”  He takes off.

They start walking again.

“Do you think he really dusted half of the world?” Bruce asks.

Steve sighs heavily. “I don’t know, but it sure looks like it.”  He makes a circle with a hand which encompasses them. “We’re here; Bucky, Sam and Wanda aren’t.  Who knows what happened outside of Wakanda.”

Steve’s right, Natasha considers tiredly.  They don’t really know what’s happened outside of Wakanda.  It might be fine or the rest of the world might have had the same experience; loved ones turning to dust right in front of them…

Natasha’s heart skips and races. 

Clint.

She stops and scrambles through her suit to get to the secret pocket with her phone; switches it on.  Her hands are shaking. 

“Nat?” questions Steve, worried.

She’s pressing speed dial and holding the phone to her ear, praying, praying…

“Natasha?” Clint’s voice sounds tinny and distant. 

It’s the best thing Natasha’s heard all day. 

She blinks back tears.  “Clint,” she glances at Steve who is breathing in with relief, knowledge flowing into his expression at why she was so frantic, “thank God.  I thought…”

“Nat, my kids…” Clint breaks in.  “My kids are gone, and I can’t find Laura and…”

Oh God.

No.

No.

No.

“…I think something’s happened but the TV’s out and I can’t find anything on the radio and…”

Natasha gulps in a breath; she takes her own hurt and pushes it deep within her.  “Clint,” she says, breaking into his desperate ramblings, “Clint!”

“Sorry, sorry, I just…”

“There’s been an invasion, Clint,” Natasha says, her voice shakier than she preferred, “there’s been another _alien_ invasion.  New York got hit again; Tony got taken into space.  Wakanda…there was a battle in Wakanda.”

Clint’s silent but she knows he’s there.

Steve hovers by her elbow; Bruce in his Hulkbuster armour is a sentinel at her back.

“Thanos,” Natasha says, “this alien Thanos we fought him, but he did something.”

“I’ll…I’ll come to you,” Clint says, “I’ll just need to…”

“No,” Natasha breaks in firmly, “no.  You’re only a couple of months away from finishing your house arrest, Clint.  Just…stay.  We don’t really know what’s happened and we’re in Wakanda right now.  Just stay where you are and…and we’ll fix this.”

“I’m not staying here when I could be helping you get Laura and my kids back!” protests Clint. 

“Yes, you are staying there,” Natasha says, “because I’m not explaining to Laura why you got your ass arrested again.”

Clint’s silent for a long moment.  “You think you can fix this?”

“I don’t know,” Natasha admits, “but I know we’re going to try.”

“God, I hope you can,” Clint says.

“I’ll talk to you soon, OK?”  Natasha says; she hopes like crazy that there is some way they can fix it. 

“OK,” Clint replies, “you stay safe; you hear me?” 

The emotion in his voice is thick and heavy; there’s a silent plea there for her not to disappear on him too. 

She swallows against the lump in her throat, the tears which sting her eyes.  She whispers her goodbye and closes the call.

“Who?” asks Steve quietly.

“He lost…” Natasha has to stop, has to take a breath; she blinks back tears again and fails, “he lost everyone; Laura, the kids.”  She swipes at her face.  She can’t think about her own grief at the loss or she’ll lose it completely. 

Steve puts his hand on her shoulder.   “We’ll get them back.”

“I hate to be the party pooper here,” Bruce breaks in, “but how exactly?”

Steve looks lost for a moment before his shoulders go back.  “I don’t know,” he admits, “but we’ll find a way.”

Steve’s always been great at giving them hope when they most need it. 

Natasha takes one shaky breath, after another.  They keep walking.

o-O-o

There is nothing but silence in the space ship on their way back to Earth.

The stones are gone.

Thanos is dead.

They’ll never get back the people they’ve lost.

Thor sits dejectedly, slumped in his seat despite killing the Titan.  There is something broken within him.  Natasha recognises the damage.  She’d lived it once.  The knowledge that killing the bad guys isn’t going to make anything better; fix anything.

Steve sits beside her, white-faced and quietly devastated.  He’s lost Bucky again; Sam.  His closest friends gone in an instant. 

Rocket flies the ship but Natasha sees the tears tracking down through his fur.  Nebula stands beside him like a guardian angel watching over the last of her protected.

Rhodes and Carol are talking in quiet voices; they’re discussing what will happen next.

Natasha can’t bring herself to care about that.  All she can think about is that Laura and the kids are gone forever and Natasha’s going to have to tell Clint. 

For a brief moment, Natasha thinks about running again.  If she runs, she never has to tell him…never has to be the person to take away his hope.

They’ve failed.

They’ve failed to protect Earth; protect their loved ones. 

They’ve failed to bring them back.

Earth beckons to them.

“Where do you guys want to be dropped off?” asks Rocket gruffly.  “The Compound place or…”

“I have coordinates,” Natasha says before Rhodes can reply.

Rhodes looks over at her and whatever is on her face arrests what he was going to say.  He nods slowly.  “I’ll step out; fly back.  I have to report.”

“I’ll come with you,” Carol says.

“Can I grab a lift?” Bruce asks.

“Sure,” Carol smiles at him.  “I can carry you.”

“Right,” Bruce laughs a touch nervously.

They get up and head for the hatch at the back.  A moment later they’re gone.

Steve meets her eyes and nods.  “I’m staying with you.”  His jaw is set in a familiar stubborn manner.  He won’t let her face Clint and do this alone.

Rocket waves her forward and Natasha gives Rocket the coordinates.

“What about you, Thor?” Steve asks.  “Are you coming with us?”

Thor shakes his head.  “I will go with the Rabbit and find the remainder of my people.”

Natasha hides her wince.  According to what they had found out in the month since Thanos had snapped his fingers, Thor has lost what remains of his family and friends, and now he has lost most of the Asgardians he’d managed to save.  But Thor is a King and his duty is to his people.

She nods at him as the ship flies over Clint’s farm and lands outside the house.  “Good luck, Thor.”

“And you,” Thor says roughly.  “Tell Clint…” he shakes his head sadly, “tell him I grieve with him.”

Natasha can’t speak or she’ll cry.  She nods again.  A brief goodbye and thank you to Rocket and Nebula, and she hurries out, into the pale light of a new day.

She takes a moment to breathe in the crisp air as Steve comes to stand beside her.

Clint is already running from the house.  He slows as he gets closer to them.  He’s a few feet away when he stops.  He just looks at them and his face slowly collapses as he takes in their expressions.

Natasha swallows hard.  She tries to find her voice, but she can’t do anything other than shake her head.

Clint just drops to his knees.

She’s there in a heartbeat, gathering him up and into her arms.  She holds him as he weeps.  It feels like an eternity has passed, it feels like a second, before Clint is silent and still in her embrace. 

Steve helps her get Clint on his feet, half-carries him back into the house. 

Natasha directs him to Clint and Laura’s room.  She turns down the bed and they place a too passive Clint between the sheets, taking off his boots and tucking him like a child.  Natasha crawls in beside him.

Steve blushes furiously and she glares at him; she’s giving her friend comfort and she won’t leave Clint.

“I’ll be downstairs,” Steve says.  He leaves her and Clint alone.

o-O-o

A month passes.

Clint remains almost non-verbal.  She’s managed to get him out of bed, showered and into clothes the last couple of weeks.  But it’s as though he’s simply existing, going through the motions.

Natasha misses Laura and the kids so much she thinks her body may not physically be able to stand it.  The house is filled with them; clothes left draped over sofas and chairs; childish drawings pinned to the wall; toys on the floor; the paraphernalia of a family is spread out into every corner of the farmhouse.

At night, she crawls in beside Clint, huddles up to his back and presses into him for warmth.  She cries in the shower; drowning her own grief under the thin spray of the water. 

Steve provides a steady presence; he takes care of the household chores; he takes care of the farm.  He handles the visits from well-meaning neighbours.  She hears him talking with Rhodes on the phone, checking back with the Avengers Compound, on what is happening with the government and the response to the world crisis following the Snap.  He tries to speak to Clint once to offer condolences and gets a terse ‘Don’t’ from the archer in response.

Natasha knows Steve has his own grief to handle.  She misses Sam too.  It’s a quieter grief than her grief for Laura and the kids, but she misses him.  She wishes he was with them.

They’re sat at the dining table.

Steve has managed to burn canned soup and grilled cheese but it’s just about edible.  Or it would be if they had any appetite.

Clint barely touches his; he sits watching the television in the corner. 

The news is on. 

“In other news,” the announcer says, “in his first public appearance since his return from space, Tony Stark has announced that Stark Industries will donate arc reactor technology to every country in the world, providing a free energy source…”

They cut to a Stark press conference.  Natasha sighs; Tony still looks incredibly gaunt and his suit hangs from his thin frame.  Pepper stands to the side, her posture clearly indicating she intends to annihilate anyone who so much as looks at him wrong. 

Tony goes off script because of course Tony goes off script.  He takes off the ever-present glasses and looks out at his audience.

“This won’t bring them back,” Tony says, pain blatantly evident in his eyes, “I know that.  And I’m sorry, I’m more sorry than I can say that I didn’t, that we couldn’t…”

Natasha bites her lips together.  Steve is staring at the table.

“God, I wish I could fix this,” Tony says with a heavy sigh, “I wish…I wish a lot of things.  I’m sure we all do, right? Because it’s not fair and it’s not right and everybody we lost, they should be here right now and they’re not.”

Natasha wipes a tear away.

“I lost the Spiderling,” Tony states baldly, “he came with me to space because he wanted to save his neighbourhood.  ‘Can’t be a friendly neighbourhood Spiderman without a neighbourhood, Mister Stark’ he said.”

Natasha wants to close her eyes at Tony’s raw grief. 

“I’m Iron Man, I am Iron Man, and I still lost him, and I can’t bring him back,” he’s staring out at the crowd, some of whom are openly crying.  He rallies, his chin coming up a touch.  “But I can take care of his neighbourhood so…arc reactor technology, free energy.” He grimaces.  “Because that’s all I can do.”

He steps away from the podium and walks away, Pepper falling into step beside him.

The camera cuts back to the studio.  The anchor’s eyes are bright with tears.

“Joining me for discussion…”

Clint grabs the remote from the table and switches it off.  He’s breathing heavily.  There’s emotion storming into his eyes for the first time in days.

Anger.

“Clint?” asks Natasha cautiously.

Steve is also carefully putting his utensils down, looking over at Clint with concern.

“He was right,” Clint says roughly, “Stark was right!  He _was_ the Futurist!  And you know what?  He shouldn’t be the one stood up there apologising because he was right.  He fucking warned us and what did we do?  Nothing.  That’s what we did.  Nothing.”  He tosses the remote on the table and it clatters across the wood. 

“It’s not that simple,” Steve begins.

“Bullshit,” Clint snaps and gets to his feet, “that’s a load of bullshit.  We stood there as he warned us and at least he tried to do something about it!”

“Ultron was…” Steve tries to say.

“Was a fuck more to do with that mind-raping stone than Stark,” Clint thrusts a finger at him, “and you fucking know that.  You’ve always known it and you gave him hell for it anyway.” He shakes his head.  “We all did, but Jesus, Cap, you believed Wanda, _who was an agent of Ultron’s_ , and tried to take his head off.”

“Clint,” Nastasha tries to intervene.

“You didn’t trust Tony, Cap,” Clint says scathingly, “you didn’t want to trust him because then you might have had to do the decent thing and tell him about Barnes.  God, you were so sanctimonious about his keeping his work to protect the world secret, about me keeping this place secret, but you?  It was OK for you to keep your buddy Barnes and his murdering past a secret!”

Steve looks away, his jaw clenched.

“Clint, that’s enough,” Natasha says firmly.

“No, it’s not enough, because it’s his fault!” Clint explodes.  “You think if he’d just manned up and told Tony about Barnes we’d be here right now?  You think the Avengers would have been broken in pieces and unable to respond to this crisis together?”

“Tony shares his blame in that,” Natasha tries to argue, “we all do.  The Accords…”

Clint’s laugh is harsh and mocking.  “Fuck the Accords!  Let’s be honest; none of what went down was really about the Accords!  It was always about Barnes!” He points at Steve.  “You didn’t want to trust Tony with the truth about Barnes and so you didn’t trust him period. Not about Barnes, or about the Accords, or about helping with a mission which,” he gestures angrily, “hey, look, when he worked it out himself, he was all for making sure a bunch of Winter Soldiers didn’t get loose!”

Natasha grimaces; the truth is that none of them had trusted Tony enough during the Accords debacle two years before.  Fresh guilt curls through her and makes her nauseous.

“Maybe if you’d trusted his ass, my ass wouldn’t have been on lockdown for the past two years!  And look where we are!”  Clint spreads his arms out.  “I haven’t got my family because the war he warned us about came and we weren’t ready for it because you couldn’t trust him and that made us not trust him either.”  His eyes glitter furiously.  “Joke’s on you though,” he grates out, glaring at Steve, “where’s your precious Barnes now?”  

Clint’s hits are always on target.

Steve pushes back from the table and storms out the back door.

Natasha throws her napkin down and shoots Clint an annoyed chastising look. 

Clint just glares right back at her and walks away, stomping up the stairs.

Natasha puts her face in her hands for a long moment.  She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet.  She heads out to the back porch.

Steve stands a few feet away, staring up at the night sky.

She joins him and nudges his shoulder.  “I guess he hit the angry part of the grieving curve.”

“He’s not wrong,” Steve says in a pained tone.

“He’s not right either,” Natasha says firmly.

Steve turns to look at her. 

“It’s not all on you, Steve,” Natasha says, “we all need to own our part of the Avengers not being together to face Thanos.  You, me, Tony, Clint.  We all made choices which led us here.”  She shakes her head.  “And maybe it wouldn’t have even made a difference.”

“And maybe it would,” Steve sighs.  “Maybe I don’t own all of it, Nat, but I sure own a lot of it.  Clint was right; I didn’t trust Tony with Bucky and…and that led to a lot of stupid decisions.”

Natasha hugs him. 

Steve accepts the comfort but eventually pulls back.  “I’m going to head back to the Compound tomorrow.”

“Steve…”

“I was always…I was going to tell you this evening,” Steve says, “Thor’s arrived back with his people and Bruce has decided to leave again for a while; he’s going on some kind of meditative retreat.  Rhodes said that there’s a rising criminal element and they need people to help.”

Natasha nods.  She feels conflicted.  She should probably head back herself.  “I can come with you.”

“No,” Steve turns down her offer immediately.  He gestures back towards the house.  “He needs you more right now.”  

Natasha breathes in deeply as Steve heads back in.

She doesn’t know that Clint does need her; doesn’t know how she gets him through this; how she gets herself through this.

o-O-o

The ankle bracelet is taken off two days after Steve leaves.

Clint is silent again.  He speaks only when it’s necessary as the FBI agent fumbles with the locking device.  Finally, the device which has kept track of Clint during his house arrest is off and sits innocuously on the table.

Clint still doesn’t bother to leave the house for weeks.  Then it’s only for short visits into town.

He burrows in, brow heavy and furrowed.  Depression in every lethargic and apathetic step.  Except for the moments of anger.  There are days when Natasha thinks Clint would give Hulk a run for his money.  The woodpile usually gets restocked during those moments.

She can appreciate his anger at every news show.  There’s increasing crime and violence and the remaining superheroes have their work cut out for them. 

“This is bullshit,” Clint says one day as he yells at the TV report, “these yahoos, these yahoos get to live but Laura and my kids are gone!  Bullshit!”

Days pass.

Natasha comes back from seeing to the farm animals and stops abruptly at the sight of the home-cooked dinner on the table.  It’s stew which is about the only thing Clint knows how to cook.  It’s still better than Steve who can destroy even the most basic of foods.

“Hey,” Clint says.

Natasha tries a smile.  “What’s all this?”

“Dinner,” Clint says, “and a thank you.”

Natasha shakes her head.  “You didn’t have to…” her breath catches, and tears shine from her eyes, “I miss them too.”

Clint reaches out and she takes his hand.  They hold on for a long moment before they let go and sit down to eat.

It’s a quiet evening.

They talk about Natasha’s first visit to the farm and her meeting Laura.  How nervous she’d been.  How friendly and warm Laura had been despite Natasha’s past and her friendship with Clint.  They talk about Cooper’s crush on his Aunty Nat; on Lila’s desire to be Hawkeye like her Dad; on Nate’s obsession with baseball.  They get out the photo albums and they talk about birthdays and Christmases; they reminisce about accidents and arguments.

They crawl into bed and for the first time Clint faces her in the darkness.

“I don’t deserve you,” Clint whispers.  “But thank you for being here for me; looking after me.”

Natasha shakes her head.

She’s crying suddenly.

Clint gathers her up and she cries on his shoulder. 

They’re silent in the aftermath of her weeping.

Clint strokes her hair and she realises how long it’s gotten.  The blonde giving way to her natural red.  She should probably do something about that. 

“I can’t stay here,” Clint confesses brokenly.  “I can’t stay here where they…”

Natasha hugs him closer.  “We’ll go home then.”

“Home?”

“New York; the Compound,” Natasha says.  “I think they could use our help.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Clint says.  He sighs.  “OK, the Compound it is.”

They leave the farm the next day.

o-O-o

They’re fighting.

Some street gang which has named itself the Wrecking Crew. 

Natasha leap frogs over the guy with the helmet and punches the guy with the crowbar. 

Clint slides into place beside her and sends an arrow at the one with the fists like piledrivers.  “Didn’t we already put these clowns in prison?”

Natasha shoots the crowbar again and grimaces when the bullet is deflected by its magic.  “We did.”

War Machine lands in front of them and takes the hit from a demolition ball.

“Ouch,” Clint winces, “that had to hurt.”

Steve jumps into the fray.

“You’re late,” Natasha states.

“Traffic,” Steve claims.

A few minutes later, the bad guys are being led away by the police and they’re headed back to the Compound.

When Natasha heads into the main living area, Clint is arguing with Steve.  It’s not an unusual sight these days.  Clint’s temper has always been quick but now it’s lightning fast.  And Steve remains stubborn and uncompromising about certain things.

“…I just want to know when we put these guys away, we’re putting them away for good!” Clint says.

“The system’s doing the best it can,” Steve argues, “but the prisons are already overrun and they’re super-powered.”

“Boys!” Natasha scolds them as she heads into the kitchen. 

“Man’s got a point,” Rhodes says as his phone rings.  He picks it up and answers it.  “Happy, now’s not a good…what?” He stands up suddenly.

They all pause and look at him, ready to act.

“She’s having the baby?!  Now?!” Rhodes is already grabbing his jacket.  “No, I’m on my way.  Just…don’t let Tony drive!  Pepper will kill you…” he finishes the call and turns back to them.  His whole body is apologetic.  “Uh, I’ve got to…”

“It’s OK,” Steve says.  “Go!”

“Give Pepper and Tony our love,” Natasha waves Rhodes off.  “Call us when the baby is born!”

“Will do!” Rhodes is already out of the door as he shouts his reply.

Clint glances over as though he senses Natasha’s gaze on him.  “Stark as a Dad,” he shakes his head and tries to smile, “who would have thought?”  He spins on his heel and leaves before she can say anything.

“It doesn’t get any easier, does it?” Steve says quietly.

Natasha sighs.  “Nope.” She considers her choices for food and pulls out the white loaf of bread.  “Sandwich?”

“I’m good,” Steve demurs.  He looks pensive for a moment.  “It’s hopeless, isn’t it?  Tony’s never coming back, is he?”

Natasha hums.  “He’s not exactly gone, Steve.” 

Tony’s the one keeping them afloat financially; he provides the technology and their accommodations.  He’s still Iron Man; he helps out the military, the police, _Queens_.  But he rarely provides support to the Avengers – he occasionally backs-up Rhodes, but only occasionally.

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve says with a hint of frustration.

“I know,” Natasha sighs.  “And no, I don’t think he’s coming back.”  She looks over at him.  “Where were you by the way?”

Steve grimaces and ducks his head.

She raises an eyebrow.  “Don’t tell me you were on a date, because I won’t believe you.”

Steve laughs sheepishly.  “No, no date,” he fidgets and breaks under her questioning stare, “I, uh, went to the college and signed up for a counselling course.”

Natasha almost drops her knife.  “You…”

“Crazy, I know,” Steve says hurriedly.

“No,” Natasha rushes to reassure him, “it’s good.  It’s…a surprise but good.”  She hesitates but ploughs on.  “Sam would have been thrilled.”

Steve smiles at her sadly.  “Yeah.”  He sighs and gestures at her.  “Maybe I could go for a sandwich.”

She waves her knife at him.  “I see what you’re doing there,” she points out dryly, “but I’ll let you.”  And she gets the peanut butter jar.

o-O-o

Doctor Franklin sends the demolition ball into the side of a building and Natasha watches in horror as a piece of masonry falls sharply downward toward a young mother and her child.  She starts to run…

Clint swings down and pushes them aside…

War Machine darts in and repulses the hell out of the rubble before it can hit Clint.  

Franklin laughs.

Clint whirls around.  “Oh, you think that’s funny do you?”  He ducks another swing of the ball and nocks an arrow. 

Natasha turns to cover his back from the crowbar wielding guy.  She can’t believe the Crew have been let out of jail again.  They’d barely been on the inside of a prison for a year.  Tony’s daughter hasn’t even turned one.

She hears the arrow fly…

There’s a gargled scream.

A thud.

The bad guy in front of her stops and stares behind her.  He slowly lowers his crowbar; he raises his hands.

Natasha frowns in confusion.

War Machine lands in front of her.  He looks past her.  “Clint, what the hell, man?”

Natasha finally glances over her shoulder.  Clint has lowered his weapon.  Beyond him, Franklin lies sprawled on the ground.  There’s an arrow sticking out of his neck; it’s a precision hit to his jugular.

Clint looks at Rhodes and shrugs.  “I missed.”

Clint doesn’t miss.

Natasha stares at him and he stares back.

Steve comes running up.  “What…what happened?” He’s looks at Franklin with a horrified expression.

Clint slings the bow over his shoulder.  “Guess that’s one less bad guy to worry about.”  He walks away before anyone can say anything else.

“Someone needs to talk to him,” Rhodes says quietly.

“Not it,” Natasha quips dryly.

Steve grimaces but nods.

Later Natasha can hear the yelling, but she stays out of it.  She curls up in her room, curls up on the sofa in front of her fireplace, and reads her book.  She knows Clint is having a tough time.  He’s harder, sharper, yet at the same time, he’s brittle.  Like a cracked vase which has been glued badly back together.

Clint storms into her room without so much as a cursory knock.  She sighs but puts her book down.

“Can you believe him?” Clint says harshly.  “He thinks we can keep the world safe by treating all the bad guys with kid gloves!”

“He’s Captain America,” Natasha feels obliged to point out the obvious.

“Some of these guys just need to be put down,” Clint slaps one hand into the other, “and put down hard.”

Natasha looks at him evenly.  “Is that what happened today?”

Clint avoids her gaze.  He stares up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath.  He shakes his head.  “I don’t know, I just…” he looks at her, “I just lost it.  He was lining up for another go and I just…I shot him without even…” he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Natasha abandons her book and goes over to hug him.  Truthfully Franklin’s death doesn’t concern her.  He’d been a clear and present danger to all of them and while she appreciates the purity of Captain America, she knows sometimes there’s a lot of grey in which they need to operate.

“Why?” asks Clint plaintively.  “Why does someone like that not get dusted but my kids…my babies…” his voice cracks.  “It’s not fair.  It’s not…”

Natasha hugs him closer. 

They rarely sleep together any more.  It’s a comfort Clint eschews more than he accepts.  But that night he climbs into bed with her.  She curls up back to back with him and closes her eyes.

He’s gone when she wakes up.

There’s a note on the table.

_“I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do.  Don’t look for me. Take care of yourself and Cap. Love, Clint.”_

Natasha slides down the wall and gives herself a minute to grieve for Clint.

o-O-o

She’s running the holo-conference again that week.

It’s been her running it for the past two years.

Steve’s started counselling others part-time and Nat’s ended up running the Avengers headquarters. 

“…and we have managed to arrest the group of vibranium smugglers we tracked to Nigeria,” concludes Okoye.

“Good work,” says Natasha.  “Carol?”

Carol sighs and her image flickers.  “I’m getting reports of skirmishes in Kree territory.  I’m going to need to check it out.”

“You need back-up?” asks Rocket.

“Maybe, furball,” Carol acknowledges, “I’ll let you know.”

Natasha nods.  “You’ll be back next month?”

Carol nods.  “That’s the plan.”

Natasha smiles.  She and Carol have gotten to be close friends.  Carol’s down to earth no-nonsense attitude is a breath of fresh air.  Tony had been right; they needed her new energy. God knows, Natasha just feels tired and old.

Rhodes remains behind when the other images blink out.

“You have news about Clint?” asks Natasha hopefully.

Rhodes sighs.  “I was in Afghanistan last week; a group of Taliban got slaughtered.”

Natasha frowns.  “Local in-fighting?”

Rhodes shakes his head.  “Not exactly.”  He holds her gaze.  “What do you know about Ronin?”

Natasha’s eyebrows lift.  She hasn’t heard that name in a long while.  “Stories mostly,” she says, “he was a warlord or a mercenary or both; he operated primarily out of the Middle East, but he had criminal underworld connections all over the world.  The Red Room wanted him, but he would never play with them.  He was on SHIELD’s wanted list.  He disappeared though; was never caught.  Why?”

“Because Ronin’s signature was all over that Taliban kill,” Rhodes says.

“So, he’s decided to pick up his katana again?” Natasha sighs heavily.

“I think he decided to pick up his katana a while ago,” Rhodes says quietly, “I think he decided to pick it up when he left the Compound.”

Natasha stares at Rhodes in disbelief.  “You can’t…Clint isn’t Ronin!”

“Yes, he is,” Rhodes holds up a hand to stop her protest, “I got Tony to do some digging.  Clint Barton was undercover for the last part of his service with Army Intelligence; his codename on the files is Ronin.”

Natasha sits down heavily on the edge of the desk.  “I don’t…”

“A lot of the legend created was made-up,” Rhodes continues, “but a lot of his hits were sanctioned.  Black Ops.  Highly confidential.  Then one of his superiors got greedy and left him out in the cold.  A month later, SHIELD took that traitor out; Clint Barton leaves the army and joins SHIELD, and Ronin disappears.”

Natasha blinks.  She thinks of all the hints Clint has given her over the years, all the pieces which are now clicking together in her head.

“If this is Barton,” Rhodes says, “he’s full on vigilante, Nat.  We traced kills on bad guys with Ronin’s signature going back all the way to the month he left the Compound.”

“Do you think you and Tony can find him?” asks Natasha.

“Maybe,” Rhodes shrugs and meets her eyes again, “but the man doesn’t want to be found and, if he really is Ronin?  He has the skill set to be a ghost.”

“Try?” demands Natasha, only just managing to soften her tone.  “Please?”

Rhodes nods and his image disappears.

“Rhodes has a lead on Clint?” Steve’s voice has her turning in surprise to the doorway.

“Hey,” Natasha smiles, “I wasn’t expecting you until later.”

“I know, I, uh, need to talk with you,” Steve’s hesitancy is written all over his face.

Natasha’s heart sinks.  She knows where this is going.  She attempts a smile.  “When do you want to leave?”

Steve sighs.  “It’s not…I don’t want to leave, I just…” he sighs and sits down beside her on the edge of the desk, “I think should focus on the counselling.  I think I can do more good this way.”

Natasha presses her shoulder against his.  She tries not to feel abandoned; that her family are in pieces, but she doesn’t quite succeed.  She feels all her hope is running out, slowly changing to dust just as surely as Thanos had wiped out so many people years before.

“I’ll come by,” Steve promises.

“To see me?” teases Natasha, rallying to try and hide her own hurt.

“No, to do my laundry,” Steve jokes.  He slides his arm around her.  “I’m sorry.”

Natasha shakes her head and leans into the solid presence of him.  Maybe he won’t be an Avenger any more but he’ll still be her friend and that’s all that matters.

o-O-o

Natasha looks at Scott Lang and tries not to hope too much.  His idea is insane but if they could get it to work…

But Tony is Tony.  Arrogant and refusing to help them.  But she can see his argument against reversing time.  Morgan is adorable and Pepper is a saint. 

Natasha watches enviously during their lunch as Pepper and Tony tag team each other to keep Morgan out of trouble and eating while grabbing bites of food themselves.  Scott and Tony start bonding over tales of sleepless nights and the difficulties of braiding hair.  They swap pictures of their daughters. 

Natasha and Steve exchange mutual looks of chagrined exclusion; neither of them have families, neither of them have moved on enough to get a life outside of the Avengers in the way Tony has.  As they leave, Natasha hears Scott tell Tony he gets why the genius won’t help them.

Bruce always leaves her speechless these days.  His merge with the Hulk had gotten major news headlines at the time.  He seems settled into his skin though in a way he never has before.  They exchange fond looks.  They’d missed their opportunity, but she still loves him.  At least Bruce agrees to help them.

Not that the first experiment goes well.

Natasha tries not to feel disheartened as she watches Bruce try to figure out what went wrong while Scott changes his pants.

She hears Tony before she sees him.  She almost chokes on her breath as he and Steve walk in together, because Steve is carrying a familiar shield.

Natasha’s eyes fly to Tony.  “You gave him back the shield?”

Tony nods.  “Didn’t make one for everyone so don’t…”

Natasha moves before she’s even thought about it; she hugs Tony hard.  If Scott’s idea has given her a glimmer of hope…the shield, Tony, they’ve given her a whole bright shining light of sunshine.  She knows what giving Steve that shield means.  She knows it’s forgiveness and trust and…it’s bringing them back together.

Tony pats her back tentatively.  “It’s OK, Red,” he murmurs, “we’re OK.”

She eases away and steps back.  She gathers herself and looks at him with her usual poise, serious and sombre.  “Tell me you can you do this without turning Lang into a baby.”

“It was one time!” Bruce protests behind her.

Tony smiles and waves his hand at her; he’s holding a strange bracelet.  “Time travel GPS,” he declares with a grin. 

She’s never going to complain about his ego again, she swears to herself.  Well.  Not for a week at least.

He sobers quickly though.  “We need everyone back.”

Natasha nods.  It’s time for Clint to come home.  It’s time to give him back his hope.

o-O-o

Natasha watches as Clint fingers the picture frame tentatively before he picks up the picture and looks at his family.  He looks good; fit and healthy if a little on the lean side.  The sleeveless tunic he wears exposes his arms and she stills at the sight of the tattoos which cover one completely.  He traces a finger over each of the faces in the photo.

It’s her favourite picture of the Bartons. She’d taken it the Christmas before the Snap.  She’d sneaked back to the farm to spend the holidays with them, hiding in the barn when Ross had sent his men to check for her.

“I miss them,” she says.

Clint nods.  “I think about them all the time.”  He sets the picture back on her mantel.  “I thought about you.”

Natasha smiles tremulously.  “Me too; I thought about you too.”

A second later and they’re hugging.

“I’ve missed you,” Clint says.

She holds him tightly.

“I have to ask though,” Clint says, “what the hell did you do to your hair?”

Natasha laughs.  She runs a hand over his mohawk.  “What did you do to yours?”

The next week slips by so quickly.

Tony’s machine and platform are built over a couple of days.  Rocket arrives and seeing the two of them work together to finish the thing is the funniest thing Natasha has witnessed in a while.  Rhodes and Nebula all pitch in.  Thor, Steve and Clint provide extra manpower when its needed. 

Natasha helps Bruce and Scott design a quantum suit based on the Pym suit.  It’s functional and hardly form flattering but it will work.

She holds her breath when Clint volunteers for the time travel trial.  But it works.

God.

It works.

He’s holding a baseball glove which had disappeared with Nate and Cooper. 

It takes them a while to work out the missions; to plan everything down to the last detail. 

Despite the circumstances, Natasha is filled with joy; with determination.  Her chosen family is knitting itself back together again.  She just needs Laura and the kids back to make it complete.

“OK,” Tony claps his hands, “who is going where?”

“I will go to Asgard,” Thor sways a little as he makes the declaration. 

“That makes perfect sense,” Tony agrees.

Natasha’s heart aches for him.  Maybe if they do this, maybe Thor will heal and regain his confidence and his purpose.

“Someone needs to go with him,” Steve points out. 

Everyone is conspicuously silent.

Rocket sighs and raises his paw.  “I’ll go.”

“Excellent, Rabbit,” Thor hiccups.

Steve nods his approval. “We have two other planets and New York.”

“Bluebot,” Tony says, addressing Nebula, “you need to go to a planet.  You’d get taken for a hostile in New York in 2012.”

“He’s right,” Steve agrees.

Nebula inclines her head.  “I will go to Morag.”

Tony nods.  “You’ll need back-up.”

“I’ll go with her,” Rhodes offers.  “If I get noticed in New York, it would cause questions.” 

Natasha nods.  Rhodes had been on the other side of the world dealing with another more Earthly threat at the time.   

“That leaves the six of us,” Tony points at the remaining volunteers.  “Someone needs to deal with the wizard,” he says and immediately puts his hands up, “and dibs not me.”

Bruce rolls his eyes.  “I’ll do it.”

“You and Steve should take New York and grab the sceptre and the Tesseract at the tower,” Natasha suggests.  “Both of you are recognisable, in positions of authority, and can get in and out without too many questions.”

“That leaves the three of you,” Steve says, pointing at Clint, Natasha and Scott.  “New York has the most variables,” he looks at Scott, “it might be handy having you there.”

Scott clears his throat.  “I’m good with that, Cap.”

Clint exchanges a wry look with Natasha.  “I guess that means we’re going into space.”

She shoves his shoulder with her own.  “Guess it’ll be just like old times.”

o-O-o

Of course, there’s a flaw in the plan.

Natasha remembers how Gamora, Nebula’s sister, had not returned from Vormir.  It makes sense to her now that Thanos must have sacrificed her to get the Soul stone. She says as much to Clint.

They both know what needs to be done. 

One of them needs to sacrifice themselves for the Soul stone.

Whatever it takes to get their family back.  To get everybody back.

They hold onto each other and contemplate who it’s going to be. 

Natasha knows it’s going to be her. 

Clint needs to be alive for Laura and the kids.  She won’t take Clint away from them.  She won’t.  Besides, this chance; it’s everything she’s wanted for the last five years.

“I’m starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha,” Clint says, cluing in on the fact that she’s not going to let it be him.

Natasha’s already made her peace with what is going to happen.  This is her sacrifice to make; her choice; her decision.

“You win,” he says.

And puts her on the ground, tells her to tell his family he loves them.

She tells him to tell them himself; she flips him, sends him to the ground instead, hits him with a jolt of her bites to get him to stay down.  She runs for the edge…

He’s good.

She hears the arrow…

The blast sends her flying, drives the breath from her body and she…

He runs past her; eyes locked on her.

She’s scrambling to her feet when he jumps…

And she launches herself after him…

She knows she has more hope than him this time.

She catches him; the grappling line goes up and she attaches it to him, lets herself fall…

He grabs her arm.

Clint holds onto her; realises what she’s done with the grappling line.  “Damn you.”

“Let me go,” she pleads softly. She’s not helping him as tries to reach for her.  He’s all that's holding her, keeping her from falling.

“No,” he says. 

Clint won’t let go of her willingly. 

Natasha looks up at him, fills up her gaze with him.

They told her she was Natalia Romanova, but she’s never known her true name.  They made her and remade her.  She was meant to be a disposable weapon.

It was Clint who saved her.

It was Clint who helped her choose who she is: Natasha Romanov, Black Widow; Avenger, Aunty Nat.

It’s Clint who gave her hope; who has always given her hope.

“It’s OK,” Natasha says gently and wishes she could make it OK for him because she knows she’s hurting him with her choice now and she can’t help that.

It’s her turn to save him; to save her family.

She kicks the wall, uses it as leverage…and wrenches herself from Clint’s hold.

Natasha closes her eyes as she falls.

Clint will get the stone. 

They’ll bring everyone back. 

Her family will be whole again.

She has hope.

The End.


End file.
